


Overload

by Cornerofmadness



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Historical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-05
Updated: 2011-05-05
Packaged: 2017-10-19 00:40:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornerofmadness/pseuds/Cornerofmadness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Convinced Angel needs to be found and help, Dru leads Spike to a strange hotel between Madison and Milwaukee Wisconsin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overload

**Author's Note:**

> Color - Scarlet  
> Disclaimer - nope, don’t own them, not making a plugged nickle. All rights belong to Mr. Whedon et al and to whomever might own The Gobbler  
> Timeline - late 1970's  
> Author’s Note - This was written for the color_i_fic challenge. My challenge is Red and Fanged Four fic. The Gobbler was a real hotel (and was still standing a few years ago but I can’t speak to it since the year 2000). Check out the hyperlinks. Thanks to Mr. J. Lileks for his hysterical write up on this place (do check out his site for all the weirdness you care to handle on a variety of subjects). Thanks to evil_little_dog for the beta and to GoddessBlue for the help.

“I don’t see why we’re here, Dru,” Spike grumbled, pulling into the parking lot of a building that bore a passing resemblance to an abstract turkey.

“Daddy’s lost. He did something bad in the flat, hot land. He’s whirling like a wild wind,” Dru said, sliding out of the DeSoto and demonstrating.

“Like I care about him, Dru. He’s been lost to us for seventy years or more and I didn’t much like him when he was around,” Spike rumbled, pocketing the keys as he get out. He eyed the round hotel uneasily.

Dru stopped her spinning and pouted at him. “Daddy needs us.”

“So that means we go to Wisconsin?” He lipped a cigarette from the pack. “There’s not shit to do except look at empty land.”

“Beer in Milwaukee,” she reminded him, tapping his chin.

“Yeah but you started the search for Box-head in Madison.” Spike lit up. “Guess there were tasty co-eds at the college, lots of good wacky weed, too.”

“See, it’s an adventure.” She ran a hand across his belly.

“Fine, we’re on an adventure.” Spike sighed, his flesh twitching from her touch. “But what the hell kind of hotel calls itself the Gobbler?” He yanked Dru’s purloined powder blue luggage out of the boot, wagging his head at the insanely girly color. It had fit the Disco Queen they had taken it from after eating her.

Dru pursed her lips. “A silly one but I sense him close.”  
“I dread to know what we do if we actually find Angelus.” Spike entertained himself briefly with his top three Angelus fantasies. He led the way into the hotel and glanced around the lobby curiously. A frightening mix of golds, blues and purples, the rug clashed with the abstract orange and green mural that ran along the walls, all very modern and pure crap if you asked him. The railings that ran through the room, for no apparent reason, looked like filigreed eyeballs and Dru was smiling at them. That didn’t bode well, it never did.

“This place is fruity, Dru,” he moaned. A quest for Angelus was bad enough without having to deal with this.

“Shush.” She put a finger to his lips.

Spike gritted his teeth over his cigarette filter and went up to the night clerk. “My lady and I want a room.”

“You’re in luck, sir. We have a few openings.” The clerk’s eyes lingered on Dru too long for Spike’s liking but he didn’t dare kill the guy and bring unwanted attention that would ruin Dru’s plans. She’d make his life a living hell for weeks.

The clerk gave him a key and directions and Spike led Dru through the circular hallway. Who the hell made a round hotel? And who in the hell had decorated it? Purple carpeting, blue and white blindingly bright doors and a jumble of stone walls and paneled ones with what looked like white wheels near the floor all combined to make one seasick, no waves involved. He could see Dru loved it. Oh, don’t let her fall in love with this place. She’ll want to move in and I’ll get sick from color poisoning.

Spike’s jaw dropped when he opened the door. The room was red. No, not just red. It was a study in scarlet. Scarlet red carpeting on the floors, up the walls where they weren’t painted blue or covered with more fake stone. And the bed, oh hell, what was up with the bed? Encased in a horseshoe of red flocked walls, the bed was rimmed with stone and was that a leopard spot bedspread? How much drugs did one take to decorate like this and where could he get them?

Dru squealed in delight and tossed herself on the bed, which sloshed and rippled, making her look like a slender, red silk covered stick tossing on an ocean wave. “It moves, Spike! It moves!” she cried, rolling over to pick up the phone that was on a shelf built into the red carpeted bed-wall. “Let’s call Daddy.”

“You don’t even know where he is, pet, let alone his number. That’s why we’re here, remember?” he grumbled, putting the stolen blue luggage on the table.

Dru pouted and settled the phone back in the cradle. “The stars will tell me.”

“You add stars to this mess, Dru and I’ll vomit,” Spike replied, figuring to give her fair warning.

Dru’s pout grew and she swam off the bed. “Maybe Miss Edith knows the number. She’s been punished enough.”

“If you say so,” Spike said, nervously lighting up another cigarette. Would carpeted walls catch fire if he wasn’t careful?

Drusilla opened the luggage and moved their clothes until she found Miss Edith, blindfolded and tied up with ribbons like a composition in porcelain bondage. She let her doll loose, apparently communing with her. “Miss Edith says Daddy is close.”

“Yeah probably driven insane by the colors in this place,” Spike mumbled, helping to hang up some of Dru’s dresses. She didn’t like it when they wrinkled. It suddenly struck him they were all in shades of red or black. She was made for this room. He might have to consign himself to the fact this would be home for a little while. The only things not in red and black were the disco outfits that came with the luggage.

“Too late to go find him,” she replied.

“It’s not that close to dawn,” he argued.

Dru just shook her head and made sure the curtains were closed tight. At least with the bed inside a carpeted fortress, they’d be safe from the sun. He hung the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door. If Drusilla didn’t want to hunt for Angelus, he was hardly about to push her to do it. Besides, he saw a glint of worry in her eyes. That might simply mean Venus was misaligning with Mars tonight but often times she knew when things would go wrong. He was used to paying attention to her frets and worries. Besides, he had never had the opportunity to try out a water bed before and getting his end away was certainly more appealing than finding Angelus.

Spike went over to her and kissed the back of her neck. She turned in his arms, licking his cheek. Whatever had suddenly worried her wasn’t so bad that she wasn’t receptive to him. One good thing about the current age, the thing that counteracted the horrors of disco, the clothing was easy to get into. He did not miss the days of having to fight past her skirts and corsets.

Once naked, a giggling Dru flipped him over and he saw what she was giggling about. The fuzzy leopard bedspread tickled his ass. Spike wiggled out from under her and yanked down the damnable spread. Dru pulled him down on top of her with undeniable strength, wrapping her moonstone legs around him. It was a little hard to get a rhythm on a bed that moved more than he thought it would. At Dru’s urging for more speed and strength, Spike managed to propel himself face first into the wall. All he saw was a sea of scarlet coming at him right before he rug-burned off his forehead.

“Bloody hell!” he groaned, flopping on the bed and holding his head.

Dru laughed, licking the drops of blood from his abraded flesh. “I’ll go for a ride,” she purred as she mounted him.

Spike gripped her hips. “That will work better, babe,” he said thinking, waterbeds aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.

X X X

“Are you sure, Drusilla?” Spike squirmed uncomfortably on one of the plastic chairs around the table.

“Daddy’s here where they eat and dance.” Dru bobbed her head as she pulled out a red dress from the closet rack. At his urging, Dru had kept some of the outfits of the former owner who was about her size. He just wanted to see her in something more modern than she would choose but not red, not today.

“No, Dru! I think I’ve gone blind from all the red.”

Dru scowled at him then pulled out another outfit. “This one,” she said in a tone that dared him to argue. It was one of Powder Blue’s disco things, so he relented. After all they were going to the ‘disco at the royal roost’ looking for Angelus. Dru slipped into the raspberry polyester skirt then pulled the multi-hued reds and silver sequined halter top on. It clung to her small, delicate breasts, leaving nothing to the imagination. He rather liked the sequins. The raspberry just added to the nausea.

“Well, at least it’s not scarlet,” Spike grumbled, taking the time to ogle her chest. “I’m feeling peckish love.”

“No feeding yet. Have to find Daddy first.” She wagged a finger at him. “No making messes where you sleep.”

Figures she’d remember that little tidbit of Angelus’ but it did make sense. You never wanted to leave a trail back to where you slept in the day time but that meant only one thing. He heaved a huge sigh. “Guess we’re spending another night in the red room.”

“Red like passion.” Dru ran her fingers up his neck then pulled him in for a kiss.

“Passion is always a good thing,” Spike muttered, his mind no longer on the fact he might have to endure disco music. He was ready to tempt fate again, water bed be damned.

“Later,” Dru said, pulling free of his orbit. “First we have to find Daddy.” She paused and looked at herself in the mirror. He never could figure out why she did it since there was nothing there but who knows, maybe with her weird seer senses, Dru saw something. She was scowling like she did. “I don’t like this color.”

“No raspberry isn’t you but you’ll love the sequins once we get you under the bright lights.”

Mollified, Drusilla put her hand in his and pulled him along. She went along the stone lined corridors until they crossed a threshold that took them to a lilac-carpeted maitre d’ stand planted like a throne under gold ball chandeliers. Spike’s eyes rolled at the sight of the purple carpet that was actually patterned by huge turkeys; the Gobbler in action, he supposed. “Bloody hell, Dru, you blend into the carpet,” Spike groaned, thinking this was so not a good thing.

“Two for dinner?” the maitre d’ asked, a wide smile on his face, probably insane from color overload.

Dru shook her head and pointed deep into the room.

“We’re just heading for the bar,” Spike said, hoping Angelus was there crying in his beer like a good Irishman so they could get out of this technicolor nightmare.

“Oh good, enjoy. There’s free champagne tonight.” The man pointed to the sign that read ‘free champagne Monday-Thursday.’ In this place, it was probably needed to stay sane. “And there’s dancing in the Royal Roost.”

“Can’t wait,” Spike said, tight mouthed as he eased Dru past the purple tableclothed dining tables to the round bar ringed with white naugahyde bar stools. He pressed against the padded white naugahyde bar rail. “A beer and a champagne,” he said then looked around. The place wasn’t very crowded. “He ain’t here, pet.”

Dru pouted. “Wait for it.” She sat on a stool. “Ooo, Spike, it spins like planets around the sun.”

“Huh?” Spike took a look at the very slowly rotating bar. “Well, isn’t that special?”

Spike settled in for a few beers and chain smoking while Dru got more and more antsy next to him. Disco music percolated down from above them. Finally he snubbed out a cigarette and took Dru’s hand. “He’s not here, luv. I think your senses got jammed.”

“No Spike, in the heavens.” Dru pointed to the upstairs bar that just had to be the Royal Roost.

There was a man there in the shadows that did resemble Angelus as clear as Spike could remember him, blocky head, blocky shoulders, bad hair. “Well, what are we waiting for?” Spike put an arm around her and they ascended into the white shag carpet up the walls roost. He grimaced at the sea of polyester on the parquet dance floor. Was there ever a more gaudy time than this? “Where’d he go, ducks?”

“Don’t know,” Dru said, stepping out onto the dance floor and before Spike knew it she was swallowed up by morons doing the Hustle.

Cursing under his breath, Spike waded in, searching for her and for Angelus. People looked askance at his black leather attire, a spot of gloom in the peacock world of polyester. Dru grinned at him and caught his hand. “This is fun. Dance, my lovely boy, dance.” Dru wiggled her hips in time to the music.  
She really was insane if she thought he was going to disco dance. “Drusilla, I think the polyester is rotting your brains. Let’s just give this up.”

“No!” she said and spun away from him. She started dancing with some bloke in a lime green leisure suit. Was she daft? What was he asking? Of course, she was. He lit a cigarette and followed her.

As K.C. & the Sunshine Band started up with That’s the Way I Like It, Spike managed to pull her away from Leisure Suit. “I don’t want to dance, Dru. Let’s just focus for a second.”

“Hey buddy, the lady’s dancing with me. Butt out,” Leisure Suit said, scowling at the vampire.

“If you don’t want to take flying lessons over the roost’s edge, shut your cake hole,” Spike shot back and yanked Drusilla along. Her chest bobbled and gleamed with sequined brilliance under the disco lights. At any other time, he’d be excited by this.

“But Spike,” she drew his name out in a way that usually appealed to him. “I wanted to da....oh, there’s Daddy.” She pointed over the roost’s edge to the main floor. Angelus was leaving the dining hall.

“So he is. Let’s go, baby.” Spike gave the people below a malicious look then flicked his cigarette over the edge just for the hell of it. He hurried her out of the bar, all the way out to the parking lot. They got there just in time to see the man who looked like Angelus speed off in boat of a car. “Damn. Sorry, Dru.”

“I think Daddy doesn’t want to be found.” Her lip quivered.

“Probably not. What did he do that has you all worried about him, anyhow?”

“Drank from the dying. He tasted like lead and gun powder, all spicy.” Dru licked her lips.

“All this because he acted like what he is?” Spike shook his head. “Not worth your time, sweetie. I’m bored with this. Let’s find something else to do.”

“Hey, miss, are you okay?” Leisure Suit called from the hotel doorway. “You don’t have to go anywhere with a man who pushes you around like that. You can come back inside with me.”

“Can you believe this bloke?” Spike laughed.

“Belly still grumbly?” She petted his stomach then sashayed over to her would-be rescuer. He didn’t have time to even make a sound before she took him down.

Spike got in a few good drinks of his own then opened the trunk of the first unlocked car he found and dropped the body inside. He slammed it shut then smiled at Dru. “Want to go back and have a little fun in the red room?”  
Dru kissed his cheek. “Gotta catch up with Daddy.”

Spike sighed. “Where?”

“Milwaukee is that way.” She pointed to where the car had joined the highway.

“Fine, Milwaukee it is. Come on, pet, we have time for a little fun first. Besides, do you want to catch up to Angelus looking like you belong on a sundae?” He gestured to the raspberry outfit.

Dru just smiled. “You like it here, too.”

Spike shut his eyes. What had he just talked himself into? With his luck, a leisurely stay in the tackiest place he had ever been. Oh well, so long as it was with Drusilla, he was content enough and soon he was sure the color overload would drive him as mad as her.


End file.
